


welcome to Romance 101

by ShitabuKenjirou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Valentine's Day, aromantic!Shirabu because i said so, it's 2020 and i still don't know how to properly tag my fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23094091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShitabuKenjirou/pseuds/ShitabuKenjirou
Summary: Shirabu couldn't care less about Valentine's day. He didn't care about confessions and he didn't care about chocolate and he definitely didn't care about sappy, lovey-dovey things.Until he finds an anonymous love letter in his locker, addressed to him.
Relationships: Kawanishi Taichi/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 13
Kudos: 103





	welcome to Romance 101

**Author's Note:**

  * For [barflybart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barflybart/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day!!
> 
> ... is what i would've said if this had actually been finished on time. but hey.. at least it's out there before White Day..??
> 
> anyway, i wrote this thing for a casual exchange in this ~lovely~ server i'm in. as soon as the art for this piece is available (take your time, Matt <3) i will link it in the end notes!
> 
> and to Matt: i hope i wrote them the way you like them! i had a lot of fun with this (once i stopped procrastinating). thanks for working with me, and i wish you all the best!

Shiratorizawa wasn’t really the kind of school that went along with holidays or festivities. It was an elite school, and it didn’t want to besmirch that by allowing students to be distracted by events or decorations. Being in Shiratorizawa meant working hard, so that’s what the students were supposed to do. 

And yet, when Shirabu entered the hallway of the main school building, hair still damp from the shower he’d taken, the tension and excitement around Valentine’s Day was almost palpable. He noticed groups of girls huddled together, showing each other the love letters they’d written and the chocolates they’d made, encouraging each other to confess to the one they loved. He saw boys teasing each other and making bets about who would get the most confessions, even boys ditching tradition by carrying letters and gifts themselves, ready to make other people’s days.

He could barely contain the “ugh” that danced on his tongue, bitter and teasing.

Dumping his messenger bag on the ground before his locker, he let his winter coat slide off his shoulders, already bemoaning the loss of warmth. Shiratorizawa was a humongous facility -- keeping the entire thing toasty during winter and early spring would cost a fortune. So they didn’t.

Shirabu kept on his scarf, damning the dress code to hell, and opened his locker to dump his coat and grab his indoor shoes. A yawn he couldn’t suppress overcame him, and, closing his eyes and covering his mouth, he reached for his shoes by touch alone. 

The sound of something dropping to the floor next to him caught his attention. 

He knelt down, setting his shoes down beside him and picking up the object.

It was a white envelope. 

The kanji of his name were scrawled across the front in black pen, in handwriting he couldn’t recognize. His interest piqued, Shirabu carefully opened the envelope, pulling out a folded, lined sheet of paper that had obviously been torn out of a notebook. 

Something in his stomach constricted as he started reading the first sentence. A few sentences later, his stomach dropped to the center of the earth.

It was a love letter.

A confession. 

He found himself looking over his shoulder, scanning his immediate surroundings for curious eyes or lingering silhouettes. When he found none, he kept reading, a balled-up mess of disbelief and surprise lying heavy on his heart. 

The letter wasn’t signed. Shirabu flipped it over, scanning every inch, but there was no clue as to who left it for him. His brain was a whirling storm of thoughts, enhanced by the can of vending machine coffee he’d consumed before he entered the building. In his mind he went by every classmate, every acquaintance, everyone who could possibly have written this, tried to confirm if he’d ever seen this writing before, anyone who’d been behaving strangely--

“What’cha got there?”

Shirabu jumped, pushing the letter into his messenger bag on instinct before looking up to see who the voice belonged to. 

Goshiki looked down on him, eyebrows raised. One hand rested on the strap of his backpack; the other held a pink envelope smothered by heart-shaped stickers.

“Nothing,” Shirabu said, cringing at the obvious lie. He started untying his beaten up sneakers, trading them for the indoor slip-on shoes that were just a teeny bit too large for him.

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Goshiki commented, his eyes drilling into Shirabu’s back as he dumped his coat and shoes into his locker, shaking him back and forth to get an answer out of him on every level except physical. 

“It’s none of your concern,” Shirabu snapped, slamming his locker closed with a bang that made several heads turn. Slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder, he pushed past Goshiki, who seemed annoyed at being left out. “Go to class.”

“I feel sorry for you, Shirabu-senpai,” Goshiki called after him. Even after almost a whole year of being his senior, being called senpai still made him grimace. Goshiki was aware of that fact well enough to only address him like that to get on his nerves. “With an attitude and a face like that, you won’t get any Valentine’s chocolates!”

\----

“Did you know it was Yamagata-san’s birthday today?” 

Shirabu’s chopsticks had faltered halfway through their journey to his mouth, left to dangle in midair as he watched Tendou strap a party hat to Yamagata’s smiling face on the opposite side of their cafeteria table. Semi clapped him on the back, grinning back just as brightly, as Reon and Ushijima watched from a distance, amused. 

“I did,” Kawanishi responded, right before he took a bite out of his pork bun. “But I don’t have enough money to buy him something.”

“I don’t think you ever have enough money,” Shirabu commented, putting his chopsticks down, having had enough of his rice for the time being. “Also, don’t talk with your mouth full, you’re being disgusting.”

Kawanishi made a point of mumbling unintelligibly after too big a bite, which only sent Shirabu’s eyes rolling back as far as they could go, and continued eating like a slob. 

_ Typical _ .

Shirabu decided to tune out the cafeteria noises in favor of his homework, balanced precariously on the table next to his rice bowl, now half empty. He had gotten into the habit of doing as much schoolwork as he could during lunch break, considering volleyball practice took up most of his time, and he couldn’t afford to slack off. In the beginning his teammates teased him for not being able to relax, but it wasn’t his fault there were only 24 hours in a day, which was barely enough to work through the amount of subject matter he dealt with without club activities taking up his time.

Thank goodness they learned to leave him alone, although some had to be taught the hard way. 

“Maybe I should get Yamagata-san some discounted Valentine’s chocolates tomorrow,” Kawanishi mused, willfully ignoring the fact that Shirabu was trying to concentrate. 

“You said you didn’t have money five seconds ago,” Shirabu said, scribbling down messy equations. “What are you gonna do? Steal your way out of poverty?”

“You’re giving me ideas.”

“Don’t expect me to bail you out when you get thrown in jail.”

“Don’t expect me to get you chocolate either, then.”

Shirabu scoffed. “I don’t need chocolate. Valentine’s Day is dumb, anyway.”

Kawanishi stayed silent long enough for Shirabu to lift his head. As soon their gazes met, Kawanishi looked away, a frown slightly wrinkling his eyebrows.

“What?” Shirabu asked, putting down his pen.

“You really think so?”

“Well, yeah.” An awkward knot formed in Shirabu’s stomach. “Why pick this day to universally celebrate those you love when you can do that every day? It’s just a scam to get people to spend more money on cheesy things.”

Kawanishi snorted, though the smile his lips stretched into didn’t seem completely genuine. “Sounds like something the poor loser without a Valentine would say.”

“I don’t need a Valentine,” Shirabu declared, picking up his textbooks and shoving them into his bag. He could almost sense the letter burning a hole through the bottom. “I hadn’t taken you for someone so sentimental about things like this.”

“Yeah, well,” Kawanishi said, getting to his feet just as the bell rang. “You’re not as observant as you think you are.”

Kawanishi’s face looked as apathetic as it usually did, but something shone through that Shirabu couldn’t quite read. Instead of them walking to their after-lunch classes together, Kawanishi turned his back to him, leaving Shirabu standing in the emptying cafeteria, his tray with his unfinished bowl of rice in his hands.

\----

Shirabu lowered himself on the nearest bench, and leaned forward to inspect his right ankle. While practicing his jump serve (unfortunately, his success rate was still only around 10%), he didn’t land on it quite right, and it had been feeling a bit stiff ever since. Rubbing and probing the joint and muscles caused him no pain, but he’d have to watch his step from now on.

Shirabu sat back and let his gaze wander through the gym, rolling his water bottle back and forth between his fingers. He felt his stomach tumble to the floor when it landed on Kawanishi, chatting and laughing with Ushijima and Goshiki, who was avidly comparing his collection of chocolates and confession letters to his teammates’. 

“Look how proud he is,” Tendou said, having appeared next to Shirabu without him noticing. He wiped an imaginary tear away. “He’s gonna be breaking so many hearts someday.”

“Of course that’s something  _ you _ would be proud of,” Semi commented, amusement carrying the tone of his voice. 

It’s like they were there just to witness Shirabu pouring salt on his parade.

“It’s not like he’ll actually end up dating any of them,” Shirabu said, as Goshiki was reading all the letters he got aloud to anyone who would listen. “His head is as empty as the volleyballs he hits.”

“How mean of you, Kenjirou-kun,” Tendou expressed, feigning shock. He sat down next to Shirabu, tossing his bottle up with one hand and catching it with the other, again and again. Semi took a seat on Tendou’s other side.

“It definitely doesn’t surprise me you’re not one for Valentine’s day,” Semi said, catching Shirabu’s gaze over Tendou’s bottle tossing. “You just dislike anything that’s even remotely fun.”

“I dislike it because it’s a capitalist scam turned popularity contest.”

“Same difference.”

Shirabu sighed, setting the bottle down next to his feet and inspecting the tape around his fingers instead. “And you’re talking to me about this… why?”

“Satori was wondering if you received anything.”

“Semi-Semi!” Tendou exclaimed the nickname as though he’d just witnessed someone put his favourite anime t-shirt through a shredder. “You weren’t supposed to tell him that!”

“Stop calling me Semi-Semi!”

Shirabu’s thoughts flashed back to the letter, as they had pretty much all day. He’d reread it multiple times, to see if he could figure out who had sent it, but hadn’t gained any clue since the moment it fell out of his locker. At this point he considered the idea that it could’ve just been a prank letter, which wasn’t unlikely, considering his teammates. 

“Did you  _ expect _ me to receive anything?” Shirabu interrupted the two old ladies’ bickering.

Tendou and Semi exchanged a glance, temporarily silenced. “Well--”

“And there’s your answer.”

Shirabu got to his feet, stretching his arms above his head, cracking multiple joints in the proces. He gently twisted his stiff ankle, trying to warm it up and check how far it would go, how much it could take.

“Oh well,” Tendou sighed behind him. A second later he stood next to Shirabu again, hands hanging on to the towel around his neck. “I’m just surprised Taichi didn’t give you anything, is all.”

In an instant, every single one of Shirabu’s veins froze up. 

“What? Why would he give me something?”

Tendou shared another look with Semi, as if they were two troubled parents figuring out how to break it to their child that they’re the biggest dumbass in existence to date. Then they burst into laughter.

“Dude, you’re kidding me,” Semi forced out over Tendou’s shrieks. Their cackling echoed through the gym, attracting the gazes of nearby teammates.

Shirabu, to his dismay, felt his cheeks turn red. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“You mean you haven’t noticed?” Tendou asked, voice high with amusement and disbelief. “Taichi has the biggest crush on you that I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s so obvious, even Wakatoshi-kun figured it out.”

_ A fucking _ what now _? _

Shirabu whipped his head around to where Kawanishi stood, scrolling through his phone with a bored face. As if he sensed Shirabu looking at him, he lifted his head, and their gazes met briefly before Kawanishi turned away. 

“No, he doesn’t,” Shirabu argued. “What makes you think he does?”

“Just, you know, the everything about him,” Semi stated, like that explained anything. “The way he acts around you, the way he looks at you, the amount of time he spends around you.”

“His eyes are basically heart-shaped,” Tendou added, only adding to Shirabu’s confusion.

“That is the vaguest bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh, come on, Kenjirou. You really think he acts that way around everyone?” Tendou looked almost disappointed, as if Shirabu was missing something extremely obvious.

Which, apparently, he was, according to them. But he knew by now to only trust what he could observe, with these immature fucks of teammates teasing him left, right and center.

“You’re fucking messing with me,” Shirabu said, trying to find a way to make his lungs stop shrinking. “You guys are full of shit.”

“Hey, don’t speak to your upperclassmen like that!” Semi reprimanded him, while Tendou was sent into hysterics once again. 

After grabbing his bottle from where he left it, he looked Semi in the eye and bowed deeply, sweeping his arms along with a mocking flourish. “My most sincere apologies, Semi-sama.”

Tendou’s cackling laughter continued bouncing off the walls of the gym for at least another ten minutes.

\----

The night sky was clear when Shirabu and Kawanishi walked back to the dorm building. At any other point, Shirabu would’ve considered the silence on Kawanishi’s part concerning, but now he barely noticed it over the storm going on in his head. 

After his disastrous conversation with Tendou and Semi, his brain had been jumping back and forth between past and present, analyzing every interaction between him and Kawanishi that he could recall. Nothing Kawanishi did screamed “crush” to him. As far as Shirabu knew, Kawanishi treated him just like he did his friends and teammates.

Maybe Tendou and Semi  _ had _ been messing with him. 

And yet… something about what they said stuck to his thoughts like glue, to the point he had trouble thinking clearly. If it really was just a prank, why was it so hard to dismiss their words?

Just thinking about the word “crush” being in any way related to him sent something under his skin crawling.

Releasing a deep sigh through his nose, Shirabu rummaged through his bag and fished out his phone. A quick scroll through his homework list made him want to collapse onto the ground and lie there until he became one with it. Maybe, if he hurried, he’d be finished around midnight--

“Hold on a minute.”

Shirabu looked over to Kawanishi the moment his hand shot out towards him, snatching the love letter he had received this morning -- and almost forgotten about at this point -- out of Shirabu’s bag. 

“Hey, give that--”

“So you did get it.”

Shirabu’s gaze flitted from the letter in Kawanishi’s taped hands to Kawanishi’s frowning face and back again, brows knitting together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought, since you didn’t mention it at lunch, that I’d put it in the wrong locker or something equally stupid, but you had it all this time?”

Something started to constrict Shirabu’s chest. “Taichi, what the hell--”

“I wrote the damn thing, don’t you see?” Kawanishi interrupted him, his voice steadily rising in volume. “You’re smart enough to figure most things out at the drop of a hat, but, fuck, I didn’t expect you to miss hints that were right in your face.”

The storm in Shirabu’s head went silent.

In his chest, a fire ignited, hot and raging.

“What the hell are you yelling at me for?” Shirabu clapped back. “It’s not like you signed the fucking thing. If you really are--” The words  _ in love _ got stuck in his throat. “--if you really feel that way about me, why not just tell me?”

“I did tell you! Everything I wrote in there could’ve lead you back to me if you used a brain cell for one second--”

“Well, it didn’t!”

Shirabu felt tears of frustration sting behind his eyes. It was like he was being lectured for something he wasn’t even sure he’d done.

Kawanishi groaned, dragging his hands through his hair and tugging at the strands. “Even still, why hide the letter?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “You usually tell me everything.”

“What, did you expect me to shout from the rooftops that someone sent me a love letter? Who do you take me for, Goshiki?”

“No, of course not--”

“Then what’s the  _ damn _ problem, Taichi?” Shirabu demanded, his voice unintentionally breaking on the curse word. 

“I just thought... “ Kawanishi seemed to lose steam. He wrung his fingers, his face sliding into an expression that could only be read as anguish. “I just thought you liked me that way, too.”

Shirabu’s breath got knocked out of him so forcefully he physically took a step back.

“Wh-- How-- I’m--”

As he stuttered, he watched Kawanishi build his emotional walls back up brick by brick, until his features showed nothing more than stone cold apathy. 

Shirabu, for once, had nothing to say.

Kawanishi scoffed. “Well, whatever. I see how it is. I’m sorry for even fucking trying.”

He walked up the steps in front of the dorm building, opening the door and slipping inside without another word. The dull click of the door shutting between them ricocheted off Shirabu’s hollow chest and disappeared into the night, sharp and final.

\----

Something tore Kawanishi out of his fitful sleep, leaving him looking up at the underside of the empty bunk bed above him once again. He wasn’t sure if he’d even slept at all -- for hours he’d been tossing and turning, unable to ban the events from that evening from his mind. He might have caught bits and pieces of sleep in the rare moments of silence, but they were few and far between.

A soft knock sounded through his dorm, and he then understood what had woken him. 

A few seconds later, he opened the door to a startled Shirabu, his body turned away from the door as if he’d already decided to leave by the time Kawanishi caught him.

The silence between them carried so many unspoken words that it was nearly tangible.

“Hi,” Shirabu spoke softly, after what seemed like a century. Kawanishi had always liked the sound of his voice.

“Hey,” he said in return. Something in his chest fluttered, then got strangled mercilessly by the memory of their fight.

“I can’t sleep.” It was just a statement, but Kawanishi caught several hints of what could be read between the lines. Shirabu’s gaze was glued to his feet when he continued, “Can I stay with you?”

Somewhere, in the corner of his mind, Kawanishi knew that he had to think twice about indulging Shirabu right now. But the word “sure” had left his mouth before he had the chance to, and soon he was stepping back, opening the door wider to let Shirabu through.

Now he definitely considered himself lucky that he didn’t have a roommate this year.

Kawanishi went to sit on his bed, waiting on Shirabu’s next move. But Shirabu stood still in the middle of the dorm, his hands reaching back to find grip on the generic desks. 

“I’m not sure what happened before,” Shirabu said, eyes trained on the small window framed by the dark blue curtains Kawanishi never bothered to close. “But I’m sorry nonetheless.”

Kawanishi felt the urge to curl in on himself, to brace his already mangled heart for the blunt rejection he was sure was coming. 

“You see, I--” Shirabu swallowed. Even in the dimly lit room, Kawanishi could clearly see how hard Shirabu held on to the edge of the desk. “I don’t… get romance, really. I’ve never really seen the point of it. Never really got crushes, either.”

Head held low, Shirabu peeked at Kawanishi through his bangs. “In case you wondered why I missed the hints you thought were so obvious. It’s just… not really something I think about.”

Kawanishi slowly blew out the breath he hadn’t really realized he was holding. “I see.”

Shirabu hummed, and with that the silence returned. Worried. Expectant.

“I’m sorry too,” Kawanishi sighed eventually. “I guess I’ve been misinterpreting signs and projecting my, uh, own feelings onto you for so long that I thought you felt the same. And then, when it turned out you didn’t, really--” A sad laugh, shaped like a shield, or maybe a plea for forgiveness, or maybe both. “-- I got mad. And yelled at you.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Shirabu remarked dryly, almost as if the sentence had been residing in his speech queue and was released without his say-so. 

Kawanishi snorted. “So, yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“We are being so fucking mature right now,” Kawanishi said with a smirk, straightening his back. “Talking things out and shit.”

“Now you’ve ruined it.”

They laughed, probably too loudly for too-fucking-early AM, but the relief it carried breathed some life into Kawanishi’s strangled lungs.

Shirabu relaxed his death grip on the poor desk, and came to sit beside Kawanishi. Kawanishi’s heart automatically skipped a beat at how close he was, his hand yearning to grab Shirabu’s, trace the veins that ran up and down his fingers, or brush over the splash of freckles covering his nose and cheeks, dulled by the winter weather. 

“I’ve never really understood romance,” Shirabu said, looking down on his fingers, folded neatly into his lap. “But I do understand love. And, for what it’s worth, I do think I… love you, Taichi.”

Kawanishi actually gasped out loud. His chest felt like it was being pierced by an arrow, but instead of pain, confetti spread through his veins, making his fingertips tingle.

“And, well,” Shirabu continued, a slight smile growing on his lips, “I may not reciprocate your feelings exactly, but I don’t want things to stay the way they used to, either. I like being close to you. Makes life more bearable and all that sappy shit.”

A burst of laughter escaped Kawanishi before he had a chance to stop it. “All that sappy shit, yeah,” he repeated. His arms wrapped around Shirabu as though they’d done it a thousand times before, and his heart did a backflip when he felt Shirabu leaning into him.

“I would like nothing better.”

\----

Shirabu settled onto his bed, folding his legs underneath him and balancing his maths textbook where his legs crossed. He tried to focus on the first of many equations, absentmindedly tapping the tip of his pencil on his cheek.

Taking a much-needed shower right after training had been a blessing, but now it felt like his brain had been gently laid in a bed made of warm cotton. His warm, oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants didn’t help his desire to take a nap, either. But this was the first moment of peace and quiet he had gotten all day, so of course now was the time to drown in homework.

He had barely finished the first exercise when Kawanishi burst through the door.

Shirabu sighed.  _ So much for some peace and quiet. _

“Look what I’ve got!” Kawanishi announced, instead of greeting him like a normal person would. He sat down on Shirabu’s bed and chucked a small, heart-shaped box into Shirabu’s lap, right on top of his homework.

“Don’t tell me you actually stole this,” Shirabu deadpanned, lifting the lid off the box.  _ Chocolates. Who would’ve guessed. _

“Who do you think I am?” Kawanishi exclaimed, his fake-offended tone eerily similar to Tendou’s. “I just borrowed some money from Yamagata-san. He always forgets I owe him.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Shirabu mused with a smile, closing the box again. “Also, you can keep this, I don’t really like sweets.”

“Huh,” Kawanishi said, accepting the box when Shirabu handed it back to him. He tore open the lid and popped two chocolates into his mouth, his cheeks filling up like a hamster’s. “More for me, then.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Like I haven’t heard  _ that one _ before.”

Shirabu snorted, shaking his head with a smile, and got back to his homework. He got through three more exercises before the bed shifted behind him, and Kawanishi’s arms slid around his waist from behind. Soon he felt Kawanishi’s chest against his back, felt the tickle of Kawanishi’s breath brush over his exposed neck.

“Do you mind?” Kawanishi mumbled in his ear.

“Nah,” Shirabu responded, copying an equation from his textbook. “You’re warm.”

“Good.” Kawanishi pulled him closer, allowing Shirabu to lean against his chest.

“Your breath stinks, though.”

“Duly noted. I will just stop breathing, then.”

Shirabu chuckled. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

He continued his homework, the soft scribbling of his pencil the only notable sound in his dorm. At some point Kawanishi rested his face on Shirabu’s shoulder, and not much later his breath evened out, the weight against Shirabu’s back getting heavier by the second. 

There was something comforting about it, the way Kawanishi’s body cocooned him. Knowing what he did now, Shirabu felt his heart warm at the fact that Kawanishi wanted to be close to him like this, wanted to experience the world with him on his side. 

It was all still new, like a spring flower opening its petals and facing the sun for the first time. It would take time for the both of them to figure out what they were comfortable with, how they would continue all this. But for now, Shirabu figured, leaning back a bit to counter the weight of Kawanishi’s snoozing body, he was fine with just staying like this. 

Hell, in fact, he could get used to this. 

Shirabu smiled to himself.  _ No, I wouldn’t mind that at all. _

**Author's Note:**

> "By the way, Taichi, that letter was too cheesy for words. How did you possibly expect me to connect it to _you_ , of all people?"
> 
> "Yeah, I don't know. I'm utter shit at romance, but I wanted to try it anyway in case it would win you over."
> 
> It took Shirabu two whole minutes to stop laughing. 
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! You're a star *finger guns*
> 
> See you at the next fic! (which hopefully won't take me an entire year to write hgldhgslh)


End file.
